


Kevin Finney Meets an Obligation

by IdaArmindaMoss



Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: Episode Related, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:48:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27889285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdaArmindaMoss/pseuds/IdaArmindaMoss
Summary: After his return to town with the bodies of the men killed in Devil's Hole, Detective-Sergeant Finney realizes there is something else he must do.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	Kevin Finney Meets an Obligation

Detective-Sergeant Kevin Finney watched as the train bearing his erstwhile ‘wife’, Julia, departed the station. He took his leave of Joshua Smith, the earnest young guide, attempting to reassure the younger man, whom he had already concluded was an outlaw, though obviously no longer engaged in criminal pursuits, that he was not at all interested in who or what Mr. Smith was, and had no jurisdiction to do anything about it even if he had been interested. Mr. Smith greeted this with a smile which held a hint of relief, and wished him the best in his attempt to locate the stolen gems; then they parted.

Left with the bodies of Ashdown and Parker, Finney decided that his first move must be to seek a better understanding with the sheriff. 

Later, in Sheriff Benton’s office, Finney finished his narrative of what had happened in Devil’s Hole, ending it with high praise for the role Joshua Smith had played in attempting to solve the mystery and catch the murderer. “So you see, Sheriff, I must return to Australia before I go back to London. That will allow me to take Miles Parker’s pocketbook and papers with me and make an attempt to find anybody who should be notified of his death. Then, naturally, I must return Stephen Ashdown’s effects to my superiors in London. I’ve already sent a cablegram advising them of the circumstances.” He accepted a cup of coffee from the sheriff and sipped it, making a faint grimace at the taste. 

“But there was another matter. Ashdown, that is, ‘Mr. Alexander,’ as he was known to you, had promised Mr. Smith thirty dollars a day for his services as guide. In addition, for Mr. Smith’s offer to talk to the Devil’s Hole gang and ask them to leave us alone, Ashdown promised him a one-hundred-dollar bonus. Ashdown was killed before he could pay Mr. Smith what was promised, but there was rather more than the sum of four hundred dollars in his pockets. If it meets with your approval, Sheriff, I’d like to pay Mr. Smith what he was owed before I leave town.”

“That’s right nice of you, Sergeant,” drawled Benton. “Unless you think that’s stolen money that has to be returned.”

“No, I’m sure it’s not. We have no suspicion that he stole any cash, only the jewels.”

“Then pay Mr. Smith, by all means.” He glanced over at his deputy. “Wh’ontcha take a walk through the town and see if you can find Mr. Smith?”

“That won’t be necessary, Sheriff. I’m sure I can find him. He told me he was to meet a friend here after the latter returned from a trip taking supplies to the mines, so he should still be in town.” Finney rose and walked over to examine the posters on the bulletin board behind the sheriff’s desk. “Are any of these men suspected to be members of that Devil’s Hole gang?”

“Sure are.” Benton tapped the Heyes and Curry posters. “These two. They lead the gang, or they did last anybody heard. There’s another man that’s known to be with ’em, Wheat Carlson, but I don’t have no flier for him yet.”

Having read the descriptions of Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry and gathered the information he wanted, Finney thanked the sheriff and took his leave. His next call was at the funeral parlor, where he made arrangements for the burial of Ashdown and Parker. He then began to search the town for their guide.

In the fourth saloon he entered, Kevin Finney found the man he was looking for. Mr. Smith was sitting at a table in the back of the saloon, with another man sitting with him, his face unshaven and his clothes covered in dust and grime. Smith saw Finney and waved. As the detective sat down at the table, Smith offered to buy him a beer, and the two men bought themselves another pint each. When the waiter arrived with the drinks, he put a tray of sandwiches and hard-boiled eggs down on the table as well.

Gesturing to Finney to help himself, Smith said, “I thought you were leaving on the next train for San Francisco.” Taking a bite of his sandwich, he added, “My friend, Thaddeus. Detective-Sergeant Kevin Finney, of Scotland Yard.”

Finney shook hands. “Pleasure. I am indeed taking that train, Mr. Smith, but it doesn’t leave for three hours yet, which gave me time to make a report to Sheriff Benton about what happened, and to arrange for burial for the two dead men. I told the sheriff I would make myself responsible for their effects, since I have to go to Australia in any case, on the trail of those jewels, before returning to London. The reason I looked you up was to say that Sheriff Benton and I are in agreement that I should use some of the cash I found in Ashdown’s pockets to pay you what was promised. Here you are.” He counted out four hundred dollars in gold and bills. “Ten days, at thirty dollars a day, and the bonus he promised you for your bravery in volunteering to negotiate with those outlaws.”

Mr. Smith accepted the money, with a quick smile at the mention of his bravery. “That’s very kind of you. I just wish you’d found me a little earlier. My friend here got kind of touchy when he heard I didn’t get paid for the job.” He ran his fingers gingerly across the rapidly darkening bruise on his jaw and addressed his friend. “I told you ‘not now’. You could have waited.”

“Sorry,” Thaddeus murmured.

Finney finished his sandwich and took another. “Do you think you’ll be leaving town fairly quickly?”

“Yes, I don’t think there’s anything to keep us here now,” Smith said, pocketing $300 and holding out the remainder to his partner. “Why? Is there any reason we should stick around? Anything we can do to help you out?”

“No, not now. I appreciate your help when we were up in Devil’s Hole, though. I shan’t forget it.” He shook hands with both men and watched as they left the saloon. Fifteen minutes later, he observed them trotting their horses out of town to the south. 

Almost three hours later, Finney looked in at the sheriff’s office on his way to the depot to catch the west-bound train. 

“Sergeant Finney. You’re leavin’ now?” Benton stood up to shake hands, then resumed his seat, waving the Scotland Yard man to a chair.

“Yes. The reply to my cable has just come in, confirming that I should retrace my steps to find where Ashdown stashed those jewels. So I’ll be on my way west.” He stood up, and hesitated. He didn’t want to miss the fun of telling the sheriff who Mr. Smith was, now that he had matched the man with his description, but he also wanted to bring no trouble on him, since he and his partner were clearly no longer pursuing their former occupations. Making up his mind, he sat down again. 

“Sheriff, there’s something I ought to tell you, but it’s only on condition that you won’t do anything with the information. It’s just for your private ear, and to give you something to think about.”

“I’d be happy to hear anything you want to tell me. And because of what you’ve done, clearin’ up this murder, and all that, as a courtesy to a fellow law officer, I’ll keep it to myself, and I won’t act on it, if that’s what you’re askin’ fer.” He held out his hand to seal the bargain.

Finney accepted the handshake. He liked the straightforward Western lawman, and decided to trust him. “I don’t think you could do anything now, in any case, since Mr. Smith and his friend left town hours ago. I just thought you’d like to know, because it’s always a good thing to hear when a bad man decides to straighten out and live an honest life.”

The sheriff nodded. “Shore is. If it ain’t a matter of murder, there’s nothin’ I like better than hearin’ a man’s gone straight. Saves us a lot of trouble and worry. But who’re you talking about?”

Finney nodded at the wanted poster on the wall. “Hannibal Heyes. There was a reason Mr. Smith was brave enough to offer to go talk to that gang, and why he came back so confident, telling us he was quite sure there’d be no problem. It’s because he knew they would do what he told them. He used to be their leader.”

“You’re tellin’ me that nice Mr. Smith was Hannibal Heyes? Doin’ honest work, helpin’ you catch a murderer, makin’ sure the death was reported?”

“Exactly. I knew he was one of the outlaws, probably the leader. He gave himself away several times on the trip. I just wasn’t sure which one, until I had read the descriptions you have here.” Finney stood up, making ready to leave. The whistle of the approaching train could be heard in the distance. “I trust you’ll keep your word to me, and not reward his efforts to earn an honest living by trying to track him down.”

“I won’t do that. I promised, and I’ll hold to it. But I’m glad to hear Heyes has gone straight. That’ll save every lawman in these parts an awful lot of trouble, because that gang ain’t near as dangerous without him up there, thinkin’ up new plans for robbin’ the trains. Wonder if Curry left with him?”

“Sheriff, I think that’s a very real possibility.” 


End file.
